Absinth
by LeJeunesAuteur
Summary: Harry goes back to the Civil War era and meets Jasper Whitlock. There is a brief but strong romance when they fall in love, but they're soon separated by Harry's sudden disappearance. When they meet in the present, has it been too long for Jasper? HP/JH
1. Abor Vitae

Harry trudged dolefully down the stairs from the boy's dormitories to the Gryffindor common room. His brilliant green eyes were focused intensely on the burgundy carpet that he dragged his feet upon. His fragile-looking skin was pale and sickly, a drastic difference from its usual healthy glow. Harry's eyes were sunken, purple bags forming beneath them. His hair stuck out in different directions, his black fringe falling lightly over his eyes. 

As the despondent-looking teen marched dutifully down the staircase, the changes in his appearance from the year before were evident to the pair of students that waited patiently on the couches that were positioned the bottom of the stairs. One of the students, Hermione Granger, was indulging in a thick leather-bound book with small print. Her eyes darted up towards her morose friend as Harry reached the sitting area. She had soft features, curly brown hair that was always frizzed up in the mornings. Her eyes were a gentle brown, caring and concern to mask her resolute, quick-tempered spirit.

The other student, Ronald Weasley, was running a fretful hand through his mass of tangly ginger hair. His brown eyes were also concentrated on Harry as the bespectacled boy slumped down in one of the three plush maroon chairs. Ron had warm umber eyes that glimmered with concern and a round freckled face, his fiery hair was by far the most prominent attribute to the gangly and otherwise unnoticeable boy.

"Harry," Hermione greeted him warmly, offering him a hesitant smile. The boy moved his solemn gaze from the carpet to meet the girls eyes, running a tired hand across his forehead. He responded with a small but reluctant turn upwards with his lips, so slight that it might have gone unnoticed if it had been directed towards any other person.

"Good morning, Harry." Ron beamed, noticing the quiet exchange between his two friends. He decided to take advantage of Harry's rare and brief display of emotions by standing up and slinging an arm around his shoulder. Harry flinched at the contact but welcomed his friend by putting an awkward hand on his shoulder. Hermione grinned and held onto Ron's hand, dragging them both out through the portrait hole.

"Let's go, guys! We're already late for breakfast." Hermione tugged uselessly at Ron's hand, but the redhead was busy focusing on Harry. The black haired teen had lapsed back into a gloomy silence and was staring at the walls.

"'Mione, go on ahead to the Great Hall, I need to talk to Harry for a minute." Ron said. Harry didn't even look up when he heard his name mentioned. Hermione was about to protest, but she saw the urgency and desperation in Ron's eyes. 

"Oh, alright." She mumbled reluctantly, throwing one quick glance at Harry before continuing her way down to breakfast. Harry finally raised his head once they were alone.

"What's going on with you, mate?" Ron asked softly, putting a gentle hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Nothing's wrong, Ron." Harry tried miserably. His voice quivered and sounded as frail as he looked. It was the first time he had spoken that week, and Ron was secretly thrilled. He showed no emotions, though, as he pulled Harry into a tight hug.

"You're practically my brother, Harry, you know that I worry about you. Please don't do this to yourself," The redhead fought back tears, he had to be strong for Harry. There was a long pause. Harry seemed to be searching for the right words, his eyes staring intensely at the wall behind Ron.

"I deserve it." He murmured finally, his green eyes meeting Ron's for a split second before flickering away again. Harry pulled himself out of the hug. "I deserve to suffer, I deserve pain for all of those that have sacrificed themselves for me. I- I..." Harry broke down crying, falling to his knees. He sobbed hopelessly for those that had died during the war and for those that had survived the loss and struggle that Harry believed he had put them through.

Ron knelt beside him on the chilled stone floor, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. The smaller boy's frame wracked with each whimper he emitted, but Ron just held him tightly. After a few minutes, Harry scrubbed away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. His eyes were an angry red and tear tracks ran down his face, salty droplets dripping from his chin.

"I'm gay, Ron." Harry admitted suddenly, sniffling pitifully. He expected Ron to flinch or at least remove the protective freckled arm that hung around Harry's neck, but Ron just grinned and bumped his fist playfully against Harry's shoulder.

"I know, mate."

o-:-o

_February 13th, 1861_

"I told you father, I don't want to join your damn graybacks. President Lincoln knows what he's doin', and I'm fit to be tied with you and your beliefs." Robert Whitlock slammed his fist down on the dining room table. Jasper's eyes widened as his brother glared at his father, William, with such loathing that even his father closed his eyes. 

"Robert, you are not telling me that you would leave your home, your family, to go join some mindless parlor soldiers that'll just end up dying. Now I've been through the mill to put this roof over your head,and don't you throw it away just because a some uppity Union man who's all talk." The balding man stood up and Robert stood as well.

"Father, I am 24 years old and I think I have the right to follow what I believe in. I'm going and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

They had fought before, but Jasper had never heard his brother speak with such finality that it sounded as if he could walk right out the door any second. The Whitlocks were a very wealthy family, never in discomfort from being cold or hungry. They were a confederate family through and through, at least that's what Jasper thought until his brother came home from work at the local hospital where he was a surgeon.

"I won't lie, Robert. You make a fine sawbone, but I just don't understand how you coulda turned so quickly against this family and the Confederate States." William said wearily, looking older and worn out as he rubbed his wrinkled forehead.

"I never believed in the confederacy, I was just too afraid to tell you before. Now there's a war comin' and I'm makin' my own path. I'll be leavin' tomorrow at dawn; General Beauregard's recruitin' for a battle that'll be over in South Carolina and I'm gonna be there." That was it, the conversation was over.

Robert turned to his younger brother, surprised, as if he just realized Jasper was there. Guilt flashed through his fierce blue eyes, making Robert pause. Jasper could feel his heart breaking. He felt his brother's pain at having betrayed his family, felt his father's shame at having a traitor for a son, and he felt his own agony at his family being torn apart before his eyes.

"Don't leave, Rob. Please don't leave me," Jasper begged, grabbing hold of his brother's wrist. Robert looked away, tears forming in his eyes. "I promise I'll be better, just don't go." he said frantically.

"Jasper," William said sharply. "Let him go."

"How could you say that? He's your son, he's as much your son as I am. Why do you want him to leave?" Robert looked from his brother to his father, his forlorn eyes betraying the calm expression on his face.

"That boy ain't my son. Not anymore."

~o~

The sky was a dingy blue-grey, stars twinkled dully and the moon was only a faint curved sliver of light. Fireflies bobbed and floated about in the heated breeze of the warm Texas night. Jasper sat alone on his front porch, stars speckling his tear-filled blue eyes. He was curled up on the chair that was positioned to face the brook that flowed past the Whitlock house. His eyes blinked away his tears. 

The sun peaked above the southern houses that ran up and down the dusty road, lighting up the early morning sky. Jasper rubbed his forehead as he heard the front door creak open, a habit he had inherited from his father. His brother stood in the doorway, his hair ruffled and his shirt buttoned up wrong. His boots were untied and his hair was hardly combed, but Jasper knew it was not the time to laugh at his brother's state of dress.

"Jasper, you know I have to do this-"

"Don't." Jasper said, his voice wavering. He had practiced the whole thing in his head dozens of times while sitting in the chair since the nighttime, but the words refused to come. The 16-year-old stood and was about to go into the house but he paused. Without looking at his brother, he spoke.

"I always knew you were gonna leave. I knew you thought you were too good for the rest of us, but I never thought you would actually do it." Finally he faced his brother. "I hate you, Rob. I hate you and I hope you go an' die in that war 'cause I'm not gonna care for a second when you do. You're not meant to be a soldier. You-" Jasper looked at his brother through his tears and saw that he was crying also. Suddenly he felt numb. He turned and ran as hard as he could into the forest, never stopping until he reached the town.

"Hello, I'm Jasper Whitlock and I'm 20 years old. I'm here to sign up for the draft..." 


	2. Adam's Needle

**Author's Note: Hello, dear readers! :) It makes me unbelievably happy that people are actually reading my story!**

**On a different note, I am going to try my hardest to update every Tuesday because I like Tuesdays and because I can. This plan may, however, get a little screwy (like this week) and I might feel like updating a little early or a little late. Just be patient with me! ;)**

**Warnings: No, I'm not going to say slash is a warning because in my opinion it isn't. I don't warn people about heterosexual pairings, so why should slash be any different? Just a quick warning about any foul language that might appear in this story, hence the rating. (Sorry about the rant)**

**OH! A note of importance: I am changing the title (yeah, I know it was fast) to "Absinth". In flower meaning terms it means "Seperation and torment of love". Depressing, I know. Anyways, each chapter will have a flower name of significance. The meaning will be at the very bottom of the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither Twilight nor Harry Potter. I don't own any of the characters in this story, only the plot.**

"_Harry," Voldemort smiled sadistically, opening his arms in a fake welcoming gesture. "How wonderful to see you. I believe the last time we spoke the roles were reversed, weren't they?" he laughed, mockingly jingling the chains that bound Harry to the cold metal chair he was positioned on._

_Harry was sitting in anguish, his back ramrod straight. His green eyes were wide and his pupils dilated. Harry was staring unseeingly at the damp grey wall of the dingy cell that he had been locked in for the past two weeks. It was clear that he was traumatized, for he felt incapable of speech no matter how much he wanted to spit in the disgusting snake's face._

"_Now, now, Harry, it's rude to ignore your superiors. You wouldn't want to end up like your dear old werewolf, would you? What's his name... Lupin?" The Dark Lord grinned, placing a bony white hand on Harry's shoulder and digging his long fingernails into the boy's skin._

_"Don't you _dare_ say his name, you fucking bastard," Harry screamed, breaking out of his shock. He writhed to free himself from the binds of the chains that locked his wrists to the arms of his chair, struggling to strangle the neck of the monster that tortured the only guardian he had left. Voldemort merely chuckled; a cold, cruel sound that echoed off the damp cell walls._

_"Bring him in, Lucius." he commanded, beckoning towards the thick metal door. It swung open to reveal the lord of the Malfoy household dragging in the man that had loved Harry like his own. Remus was battered and bruised, countless scars littering his arms, neck, and face. There was dried blood and dirt covering his clothes and skin, fresh cuts continued to bleed._

_"No, please," Harry begged, tears running down his cheeks. Remus looked at Harry with defeat in his eyes. He smiled sadly at his deceased friend's son, preparing himself to join his friends. "Please!"_

_"Avada Kedavra,"_

Harry woke with a start, a fine sheen of sweat coating his forehead. He looked around frantically, taking in the warm shades of crimson and gold and the velvet curtains that hung from the canopies above each boy's bed. Shuddering, Harry rubbed his eyes and slid his glasses onto his nose. Snatching his wand off the table beside his bed, he mumbled a quick, _"Tempus,"_ to find that it was only 4:20 AM. No matter how early it was, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after that dream.

He had been having it every night ever since the war ended. Remus had been his whole world after Sirius died, comforting him and always being there when he just needed a parental figure. The minute that Voldemort murdered him, Harry knew he would kill him out of pure rage. With all of his emotional magic, he managed to break the chains and fulfill the one task that he was destined to perform ever since before he was born.

Harry swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching his arms above his head before tiredly grabbing his robes and sliding them over his shoulders. He padded softly down the stairs, not bothering to slip on a pair of shoes. He shoved the portrait of the Fat Lady aside, ignoring her irritated and sleepy huff of indignation. It was a good thing that Harry knew the halls like the back of his hand, otherwise he would have gotten hopelessly lost wandering the castle, half-asleep at 4:30 in the morning.

After much more tripping and stumbling in faint the early morning light than Harry thought necessary, he finally found the large rectangular portrait of a bowl of fruit. He lifted a hand to wiggle his fingers over the pear, brushing his fingers lightly against the canvas. The fruit giggled in a high pitched, squealing sound before a small polished doorknob appeared. Harry turned the knob and the portrait swung aside to reveal a doorway. He stepped into the kitchen, suddenly not feeling very tired anymore. He turned around to ask one of the house elves that were already making breakfast if he could have a cup of hot cocoa when he saw a very peculiar sight.

"Hello, Harry," Luna said in a light and airy voice. She was sitting atop one of the polished kitchen counters, her legs swinging carelessly and banging against the cabinets under her. "I was wondering when you would show up." She smiled in a pleased sort of way, her eyelids hooding half of her large blue eyes.

Luna was dressed in a flowery blue dress that came down to her knees, ruffling at the sleeves and hem. On her legs were the shiniest pair of leggings that Harry ever saw, a nearly-invisible snowflake pattern twisting and swirling around her calves and up to her mid-thighs. Around her neck was a dried and pressed crocus on a silver chain along with an assortment of other odd charms. Two silver moons dangled from each of her ears, a matching bracelet around her wrist. She had muggle sneakers on with silver shoelaces that had the plastic tips snipped off and around the toes were a bunch of runes and symbols.

"Er... sorry to have kept you waiting." Harry said unsurely, not quite knowing what to think of the whole situation. Luna ignored his comment.

"The crocus is a symbol for cheerfulness," Luna explained, picking up the delicate dried flower carefully. "The moons are a symbol for cycles. See how there are eight different ones? There's one for each phase." She ran her finger along each charm, smiling slightly when they tinkled softly against each other.

Harry didn't know why Luna was telling him this, so he just sat quietly and watched her. Her legs ceased their swinging, but she immediately started thrumming her fingers against the counter top. A thoughtful expression graced her face as she gazed at Harry without really looking at him, a far off look in her eyes.

"They're for good luck," she told him, her smile faltering. "But somehow nothing seems to cheer you up. It's going to take a lot more than silly little charms." Harry's lips twitched upwards into a hesitant smile at her thoughtfulness and attempts to make him happy.

Luna had been Harry's friend for the past few months when Harry was spiraling deeper into his depression. She was the most real person that Harry had every met, and her honesty was one of the many traits that he loved about her. She always told him exactly what she thought, never caring about what he or anyone else thought about it. Luna was always there whenever Harry was alone from Ron and Hermione as they didn't seem to appreciate Luna as he had, and just thought she was a bit off. Despite his other friend's opinion of her, Luna was a very good friend and was always there for Harry when he needed someone the most.

"Dobby, could you please bring Harry a mug of hot chocolate? Oh, and leave out the marshmallows." Luna said in a dangerous tone, wagging her finger warningly. Dobby gave her a nod and salute before hurrying off towards the stove.

"Bad luck?" Harry guessed, not knowing why she had such a suspicious reaction to the fluffy white cylinders he had taken a liking to. She shook her head.

"I heard they had a bit of thestral hooves in them." she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Poor things, it's no wonder not just anybody can see them." Harry's stomach churned at the thought, remembering that he'd had fudge with marshmallows for dessert just the night before.

They sat there for a few hours, in a comfortable silence or chatting quietly. Either way, Harry was really glad that he had a friend like Luna.

o-:-o

Breakfast was a dreary and quiet event for Harry. He was falling asleep in his cereal while Ron and Hermione were bickering quietly about Ron's study habits. Luna was sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table, looking a little wistful at the noisy and boisterous Gryffindors.

Despite his enjoyable early morning, Harry was feeling sullen and depressed. The day was dingy and dismal, a light drizzle sprinkling down from the grey clouds that lurked above the grounds. They looked harmless, but Harry knew that the drizzle would evolve into a full-blown storm by lunchtime and the thought depressed him even more. He stood up and collected his books, wanting to get to class early to avoid getting points deducted for being tardy.

Class with Snape was even worse than usual, (or was it just the fact that Ron and Hermione had paired up for the potion and he was with Neville?) and the fact that they were brewing Amortentia didn't make it any better. All the girls were cooing and giggling, asking one another what the substance smelled like to each other. Harry, however, was unimpressed. He smelt the damp, fresh scent Hogwarts grounds after a rainfall, the delectably warm fragarence of a cup of butterbeer, the smell of his freshly polished firebolt. Each aroma tickled his nose and made his stomach tingle, but he couldn't see why anyone would want to drink the smell of a broom handle.

"Mmm... Newly mown grass, fresh parchment and... something else I can't quite put my finger on." Hermione said, sniffing her own potion quizzically. She didn't notice that Ron was leaning over his cauldron, his nose so close to the potion that he could have inhaled it if he moved half an inch closer.

"Roast chicken, shepherd's pie," he sucked in a deep breath. "Oh, mum's raspberry chocolate cake."

Harry snorted and turned back to Neville, who was frantically stirring his potion as it bubbled and frothed. The thickening liquid turned a nasty and dangerous shade of green before spurting out a boiling-hot glob. It landed on the table, hissing and spitting green flecks. Neville sunk down in his chair.

o-:-o

Luna sat alone beside the Black Lake, watching the vicious rain pound down on the murky dark surface. She ignored the sting of raindrops battering down upon her pale skin, trying not to think of the cold numbness of her fingertips. Luna was thinking, and once she had the slightest idea of a plan, she wouldn't rest until it was perfected.

Her first and foremost concern for the past few months had been for her close friend, Harry. She knew that he was quickly losing his will to get up in the morning, and she was worried about how he was feeling inside. As she had once been shunned by everyone; friendless and jeered at, she didn't want Harry to feel the same empty loneliness that she had. She cared for Harry like he was her brother, and she didn't want him to be depressed anymore.

She had to think of something, and fast.

**Author's Note: I will now take this time to properly thank my fantastic reviewers because not only do I enjoy talking, I also like it when my username is in a story I like. I only hope it is the same for you :D**

**BloodyKiss XIII, thank you for your review and kind words. I most certainly will continue this (because I haven't found nearly enough stories to satisfy my that are Jasper/Harry) and I'm very glad you hope I will too! Thanks so much for taking an interest and adding my story to your favorites! I do like hearing that, it made me smile :)**

**DementedViper- I KNOW! I really get tired of reading too many "Edward meets Harry and leaves Bella" stories, plus Jasper is pretty cute XD**

**Katsy17, thanks for review! I'm looking forward to writing this :)**

**LadyPeneloSolidor, thank you! I can't wait for you to read more either :D**

**- Thank you very much for the excitement, I'll update as soon as I can!**

**Sir StalkingWarrior, I believe I sent you a PM but whatever... I like to talk :) I have a vague idea of what's going to happen with some things, others I already have planned out but you must wait and see :D**

**This chapter is 1819 words not including A/Ns. (I just like to keep track)**

**Adam's Needle: A friend in need.**


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